


Bookends

by natika



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 4CC, Anxiety, Before and After, Best Friends Forever, Competitions are liminal spaces, Detroit, Four Continents, Gen, Hungover Yuuri, Pre-Canon, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, and apparently during, confessions in the dark, confessions in the grey light of dawn, several posters of Viktor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9653309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natika/pseuds/natika
Summary: "And of course I'm a distraction," Phichit concluded, entirely unoffended, "How else am I going to place above you at Four Continents?"Yuuri gaped, "That's your target?!""You don't mind, do you? I'll admit, as a goal," Phichit said, "it lacks the elegance of 'get in Victor Nikiforov's pants', but -"Yuuri let out a strangled squeak.





	1. One Week Before

Sometimes Phichit caught Yuuri's eye and smirked, just so, and Yuuri burst into helpless giggles. 

He was standing behind Celestino, just now, making faces, and Yuuri had to bite down hard on his lip and stare very hard at his coach's forehead. This was not a better place to look, since it was creasing into a deep frown, so much so that Yuuri tried to focus on his chin instead, but that, inanely, made him want to start laughing even more.

Yuuri appreciated that Celestino never asked him if he was all right, but it didn't help that, a lot of the time, his coach clearly wished he could.

Phichit was excelling himself now, hopping up and down on one leg and flapping his arms semi-balletically.

"...heard a word I've said?"

Yuuri recognized the pause had gone on too long, and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Oh, no - sorry."

Celestino let out a deep sigh, raised one bushy eyebrow and his voice. "Phichit! Get out of here!"

Phichit executed a slightly under-rotated triple pirouette, raised his hands in a gesture of victory, and danced off toward the changing rooms.

"I'm not going to pretend that boy isn't a good friend for you, Yuuri," Celestino said, "but sometimes I wonder if he doesn't go too far as a distraction in the other direction."

Yuuri's mouth didn't know which way to turn, and Celestino let out a chuckle. 

"Okay - round the rink as many times as you need, then let's take it from the second step sequence and run through to the end."

*

Yuuri stood under the shower long after it had gone cold until Phichit came and bundled him out and made him repeat what Celestino had said three times, and over mugs of green tea they untangled the double negatives and Yuuri's more than double thinking.

"And of course I'm a distraction," Phichit concluded, entirely unoffended, "How else am I going to place above you at Four Continents?"

Yuuri gaped, "That's your target?!"

"You don't mind, do you? I'll admit, as a goal," Phichit said, "it lacks the elegance of 'get in Victor Nikiforov's pants', but -"

Yuuri let out a strangled squeak.

"- as he's not going to be there, I thought, hey, how about a bit of good old-fashioned roommate rivalry. We'll trash-tweet each other; I mean technically I'll be trash-tweeting myself but I'll give you at least half of the best lines -"

"Really," Yuuri protested. "I don't want to -"

"It could be the start of something big," Phichit insisted. "Think of the instagram followers! No - think of the fanfic!"

Yuuri stared at him.

"On second thoughts," said Phichit, pulling a face, "don't?"

Yuuri said, very slowly and with far too much dignity for the words themselves, "- get in Victor Nikiforov's pants...?"

Phichit sounded slightly too relieved when he said, "There's definitely fanfic for that!" 

Yuuri appeared to be processing this for a moment. 

"Where?"

"Um," said Phichit.

 

*

Yuuri came and curled up on the end of Phichit's bed half an hour after they had turned the light out. 

Phichit wriggled over toward the wall to free up a bit more space, and waited. One of the hamsters - Gin, probably - had a squeaky wheel, and was spinning a marathon in a not-quite-constant way.

"Am I really so obvious?" Yuuri said eventually, small and short of breath.

They'd glanced across this conversation before: after practice, watching stuttering Russian feeds of competitions, but always in the context of the ice. Never in bed, never in the dark, where they whispered out secrets where only the words were visible, and sought solace in the flutters of breathing and the slightest of touches.

And if the lights were on, Phichit knew this wouldn't go the same way, not with Viktor smiling - benevolent, concentrated, sexy - out at them both from every wall, inveigling himself into Yuuri's life without a care in the world.

So Phichit discarded, _I have eyes, you know_ , and instead he managed an easy tone when he said, "If you can't be obvious in your own room, where can you, right?"

"It's not fair to you," Yuuri's whisper was almost too quiet to hear, and Phichit's eyes went wide in the dark. He twisted around to lie on his back, hands on his stomach and legs pointing up the wall; a new angle.

" _Mai pen rai_ ," Phichit said to gain a moment, then swallowed. "Look, you're my best friend, and I'm not exactly averse to that picture of Nikiforov doing his _Eugene Onegin_ free skate either."

There was a long pause. Phichit flexed his feet, then pointed his toes. He didn't keep count of the number of repetitions or the soft, almost tender aches in his body.

"When Ciao-Ciao said he'd take me on to coach," Phichit said eventually - more because he couldn't bear the silence any longer rather than knowing exactly what he was going to say, "I think after getting to come to the States to train the thing I was most excited about was meeting you; that is, I'd already seen you skate - and I don't just mean at Four Continents last year -"

"I wish - ah, we should have met properly, then," Yuuri interjected, and Phichit let him finish the sentence because he was just glad to hear him speak - plus he knew an apology when he heard one. 

"Sure, but it was better this way. Just think, if you hadn't avoided everyone and we'd actually swapped numbers and I'd spent six months messaging you; you'd probably have blocked me ten hundred times by now and I'd be single-parenting the hamsters -"

"You are single-parenting the hamsters," Yuuri said, which was a terrible lie, "and I'll never block you," which probably wasn't. The bed shifted as he wriggled closer, one short breath cascading over Phichit's hair before their heads bumped together softly, not quite at their usual angle.

"Maybe not," Phichit allowed, "But still, I think the turning up and attaching myself to you until I wore you down method worked much better, I shall recommend it to any future friends of ours -"

"Aaah," breathed Yuuri, quiet yet fond. "You didn't -"

"- I'll say it's because you're a dog person -"

"But where did we skate together, before last year?"

"We didn't."

"Oh!" Yuuri's voice dropped almost below a whisper, "I thought you said -"

"I did," said Phichit, "But I meant I'd seen you on TV -" and he stopped, too late, because Yuuri had already groaned.

"It's what happens when you skate, you know," Phichit said, and then seized on a slight misdirection before Yuuri could settle into any kind of panic about his performances being broadcast all over the globe, "especially somewhere like in Thailand where it's hardly popular; it's hard to find good friends, skating friends, I mean, who'll sit down and watch all the events with you."

Yuuri shifted a bit, curling up once more, and Phichit edged closer also, unusually thankful for the dark.

"So one of my friends had a bunch of us over to watch Japanese nationals on cable at her place, and we were sneaking sips of her dad's whiskey and not really paying that much attention to be honest, not unless the girls all thought a skater was cute, and I was fourteen so they weren't exactly interested in my opinion -"

"Oh no," said Yuuri, still faintly, having presumably done the maths, "You saw that?"

"Yeah," said Phichit, "they didn't televise juniors so I only got to watch your senior debut, how tragic, and apart from P'Ploy wrecking it by screaming at the TV how terribly cute you were and how much she couldn't take it and she was going to die -"

"Ugh, don't exaggerate!" Yuuri complained, pulling the comforter over both of their heads in another fit of embarrassment. Phichit reached out and twitched the covers back again, almost absently. "I wasn't very good."

"Yes, so awful you came seventh in seniors with your junior program," Phichit said equably, "but that's not the point; the point is I watched you, and I wasn't watching elements or some amazing technique, I watched you and you were _dancing_ and it was so obvious how much you loved it; I'd never really seen that before."

He stopped, and the hamsters had gone quiet, but even so, he could barely hear Yuuri's breathing.

"I don't think I'd really understood what figure skating could really be like," confessed Phichit, "but watching you, I got it, and I knew I'd rather skate like you than anyone else, even Nikiforov. I mean, technically he's amazing, and his performance, he sucks you in, but at the end of the day, you know he's acting, and he's brilliant at it, but - you don't, you live it."

The reaction this time was instant; Yuuri went back to trying to smother himself in the bedding. "That's not - that's not -"

"Fair?" Phichit supplied. "Oh good. Now we're even."

It took a few seconds, but even in the dark, Yuuri's aim with a pillow - finding the pillow in the first place, even - was unnervingly good. 

A few minutes later, both of them out of breath and the bedding beyond hope, Yuuri had moved on from gasping out "I can't believe you... you... you... ugh! Ow!" and instead said, during a lull, "But, you mean Ploy? The quiet one you always make me talk with on Skype?"

"Thai ladies' champion, but don't worry, she's moved on," Phichit said carelessly. "Screams about some singer now."

"I don't think I can," said Yuuri, wistfully, and Phichit laughed.

"I know, neither -" He wasn't sure why he hesitated; he was used to Yuuri's double meanings by now. "Neither can I."

"Is that really why you moved here?" Yuuri asked, and hearing the words tumbling out over each other before conscious thought could keep them back, Phichit tried not to tense up.

"For the coaching, first, but, someone had to get you on SNS." He affects a sigh, doesn't miss a beat. "Trying to stalk you online was dire. I'm glad I did, though."

Yuuri said, so quickly and quietly and lost on an inhale that Phichit almost missed it, "Me too."

And Phichit had been going to crack a joke, but Yuuri landed half on top of him and buried his face into Phichit's chest. 

Somehow, it was Phichit who ended up blinking away the stinging behind his eyes; Yuuri clutched ever tighter.

"But you were obvious from the moment I met you," said Phichit, giving in, and Yuuri started laughing helplessly, even though they were in the dark with nothing to see.

*

When Phichit's alarm went off the next morning, Yuuri was on the floor doing stretches, the hamsters were scuffling, and the only thing he could never get used to was the icy rain battering on the window. 

Nothing was different, except that Yuuri's bed was perfectly made, and Phichit was tangled up in his undersheet, and even that didn't feel so very far from ordinary.

He reached for his phone.

" _Sawatdi kap_ ," said Yuuri, legs straddled out wide, body and forehead pressed down to the floor; two good signs.

" _Sawatdi_ crap," sighed Phichit, rolling out of the bed, covers and all, and landing in an inelegant heap on the floor.

"Underrotated," sing-songed Yuuri, without even raising his head from the floor, and Phichit stifled a snort.

"Oh? Yours was better?"

"Plus three," said Yuuri. "One from each hamster."

"Traitors," Phichit said without rancour, scrambling upright and stretching. "But with excellent taste."

Yuuri pushed himself up to a sitting position, then folded down again to link his hands around one foot. "I bought carrots for them."

"Bribery!" gasped Phichit, none-too-stealthily taking a photo of Yuuri, bedhead and all. "But carrots won't work on the real judges."

"Oh," said Yuuri, deadpan, "you tried already?"

"Yeah," said Phichit, shooting off a message to Celestino about the dangers of double negatives, "it's why I'm resorting to sabotage."

"It won't work," said Yuuri, twisting at the waist to blink up at him with determination, and Phichit thought, _Finally_ , and got the photo that ended up on Instagram a few minutes later.


	2. Inbetween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A catch-up at Four Continents.

"'You're so lucky!'" Phichit sprawled on his back on the bed and read aloud from his phone, "'getting to travel the world' - ugh, jetlag's the worst - Yuuri?"

"'M awake," said Yuuri, who had faceplanted onto his bed and not moved his face from where it was smashed into the pillow.

They could be anywhere. Hotel, sleep, rink, rinse, repeat.

"We should go sightseeing," said Phichit, "get at least some good selfies on our one free hour - Yuuri!"

"'M awake!" moaned Yuuri. "Why am I awake?"

"Yuuri!" grumbled Phichit, but his phone beeped at that point. "Actually, that's Ploy, so go to sleep. I'll go annoy her instead!"

"I'm awake now!" came the aggrieved call when he was halfway out the door, and Phichit laughed.

He didn't laugh when Ploy sang out " _Nong Ice na ka!_ " from halfway across the lobby where anyone could hear her.

'Don't call me that!' wasn't an option, so Phichit settled for an overly polite and pointed, " _Sawatdi kap, Khun Siriporn_ ," making a brief wai when closer.

"Now, now, don't get worked up," Ploy rolled her eyes, "No-one's going to understand Thai!" She beckoned him towards the doors. "Have you eaten? There's a juice cafe opposite that looks good."

It was strange, how wrong the familiar - what should have been familiar - suddenly felt, and Phichit didn't manage much more than a "Sure."

She waited, at least, until they were sitting down. "So? Where've you been?"

"Oh, here and there," said Phichit, lining his smoothie concoction up next to Ploy's and instagramming it: #thaiteam #catchup #4CC.

"Don't be so impersonal!" said Ploy, eyes sparkling. "Give me the gossip; you won't talk about Yuuri when he's around!"

Phichit's head shot up. "Gossip?" Then he smiled, bright and practiced. "P'Ploy, I hear the gossip, I don't make it!"

It was the wrong thing to say. "Of course you do. You and Yuuri, I remember our heart-to-hearts before you left Bangkok, and now look at you." She pouts, "Don't you think I at least deserve to know?"

Phichit knew what she was saying - he may go for days without speaking a word of Thai, but it's still his mother tongue - but the words made so little sense. "I don't think there is anything to know."

Ploy is older - the same age as Yuuri, albeit Phichit hardly ever feels that Yuuri is much older than he is - all perfectly manicured nails, foundation not-quite-hiding acne scars, and hooped earrings. "You became roommates," she said, "you had that goal, I know, so what about everything else?" and It's been so long Phichit could barely remember confiding in her, back in Bangkok where so few people knew anything about skating at all.

"P'Ploy," he said pleadingly, "America's different. I'm different. Anything I said a year ago was - I was only a kid then. You should forget it."

"Really?" said Ploy, "So you don't spend most of your evenings holed up in your room with Yuuri, then?"

Phichit changed tacks, his smile never wavering, his voice not managing to match. "Don't think that the times we Skype you are how things are every night; I go out!"

"You go out?" Ploy repeated, slower, beautifully disbelieving. 

"I'm not a schoolkid any more," Phichit insisted in desperation. "And anyhow, if I were - I'm not, but if, if - you can be sure I wouldn't be plastering it all over Instagram, or telling anyone at all; I've learnt my lesson!"

Apparently he hadn't because he let himself sound too aggrieved; then again, perhaps it was convincing enough, as Ploy's face softened.

"Oh," she said, " _Nong Ice_ \- Isn't it too hard, to be around him all the time? You should have said something!"

Phichit decided to stick with the tack of vehemently denying he ever said anything. "Yuuri's my best friend!" He took a breath, not too deep, carefully even. He had to give her something, so he blurted out: "And you know I wanted one of those for longer."

The light in Ploy's eyes told Phichit he'd just made a misjudgment, and he needed to take action.So he surreptitiously messaged Yuuri the same Line sticker three times, and hoped he was awake.

"Oh!" said Ploy, sounding anything but disappointed, "That sounds a good start."

"A real -" Phichit was saved by his phone buzzing. "Speak of the devil," he said in English, and answered.

Yuuri said blearily, "What's up?"

Phichit said, "Really? Already?"

Yuuri said, "Er, I'm not sleeping, if that helps."

"I thought we weren't going to meet him for at least another hour," Phichit extemporised. "Oh well, I'll be back in five minutes, I'm just having a chat with P'Ploy."

"Should I speak to her?" asked Yuuri, and Phichit could not have thought of a worse idea at this moment - or indeed ever again.

"No, don't worry, you're not. I'll be there in a minute."

"If you're okay, can I go back to sleep?"

Phichit ended the call.

"Our coach wants us," he lied to Ploy with a straight face and a shrug. "Can we do this again later?"

*

"Girls!" moaned Phichit, allowing himself a slight huff on entering their hotel room.

"What did she want?" Yuuri was trying not to sound snarky about not being left to sleep; he was failing miserably.

"To annoy me," said Phichit, too unsettled to smile. "She won. I'm going to take a shower, and I promise I'll be as quiet as a really quiet mouse. You go back to sleep. Sorry, really!"

He turned on every available tap in the bathroom, sat down on the mat, put his head in his hands, and wondered why the urge to cry just wouldn't spill over.

He didn't even realise Yuuri had come in until the sounds changed and the running water stopped

"I locked the door!" wailed Phichit, though he couldn't help but sound impressed.

"It didn't sound like a shower," said Yuuri, handing over a packet of tissues. "You should have said - ah - take a bath."

"Yuuri- _senpai,_ " Phichit sniffled seriously. 

Yuuri made a soft, amused sound. "Do you want me to go, or-?"

Phichit shrugged. "Depends. This bathroom's a bit too beige to hang around in."

"It's clean," Yuuri said. "I've hidden in a lot worse."

Phichit chanced a glance over, but Yuuri wasn't actually looking at him. "I swear I'm not stealing your thing, honest."

"You can have it if you want it," said Yuuri, wrinkling his nose. 

Phichit leant over and tapped head to head, just above the ears. "I can take a bit."

Yuuri let out a breath and slid infinitesimally sideways, head pressing back into that one touching point of their bodies. 

"About that much," said Phichit, and Yuuri rippled with laughter.

*

They went to watch the ladies' short program 'for the atmosphere' as well as to support their friends; they were still waiting for their rinkmate Aimee to skate when Ploy found them. She had chosen her moment, Phichit too busy showing Leo some of his practice videos on his phone when he became aware that Yuuri was talking quietly to someone behind him.

"- of you to think of him," Yuuri was saying, "But honestly, it's hard to mix, you know, two homes, and it's weirder at events, when you see people from both places."

"He's homesick?" Ploy asked.

"I didn't say that," said Yuuri. "Just that it's - it's like you're two different people, and you never really notice, not until -"

"And then again, online," added Ploy. "Okay, I understand _ka_."

"He's a really good friend," Yuuri said, and Phichit would have groaned, but his face betrayed him and he found the corners of his mouth turning up instead.

"Good," said Ploy. "He needs more friends, not only on his phone."

Phichit had had enough. " _Pai nai na kap_?"

" _Pai len_ ," said Ploy and sat down in the seat behind him. "I skated so very well," she said in English, "thank you for your comment _na ka_."

"I thought it really, really hard," replied Phichit, beaming at her over his shoulder. "Didn't you feel all those positive vibes on the ice?"

"You and Ice!" said Ploy happily, and even winked at him.

Phichit stared at her until Yuuri trod carefully on his toes.

"Oh, here's Aimee! Go go Aimee!" Phichit yelled, and jogged his foot against Yuuri's in time to the familiar music the whole program through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a one paragraph flashback that got out of hand. Oops. So this fic now has three chapters.
> 
> My Thai is (and probably always will be) terrible, but here:
> 
> Nong - younger sibling/good friend  
> P' - older sibling/friend  
> Khun - respectful term of address for someone superior/older/you don't know well. 
> 
> Sawatdi - good day  
> Kap/ka - ways to make what you're saying more polite  
> Pai nai - literally 'where are you going', means 'what's up'  
> Pai len - generic response, literally 'going for a walk'
> 
> All Thais have nicknames and I was trying to come up with a convenient excuse for why Phichit doesn't go by his. So I named him Ice.


	3. One week (and a morning) after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth place is the worst.

It was the week after Four Continents and a Thursday evening, which meant Yuuri was at the Dance Studio, and on this particular Thursday Phichit was studying for a test so he was unusually aware of every passing minute that Yuuri was late.

Phichit tried not to begrudge Yuuri the extra time; he'd been so closed off and flat, as if coming fourth had been the end of the world instead of a Season's Best score. Phichit was becoming used to Yuuri's pre- and post-competition idiosyncrasies, but this one worried him for reasons he could not satisfactorily pinpoint.

He'd been waiting for Yuuri to do something: cook some ridiculously delicious food, or crawl onto the end of his bed in the middle of the night and pretend not to be crying, or destroy a pillow, or just have a plain panic attack, but there had been nothing except a feeling of inertia in their room that Phichit could not chase away, however much he moved.

On Dance Studio Nights Yuuri usually came home lighter and gently bubbling, so Phichit had been holding out hope for Thursday to work a change. Apparently he hadn't been specific enough on it being a change for the better; it was not like Yuuri to come home late.

After half an hour had passed he shot off a message; after thirty-five minutes (and three more Line stickers) he tried calling; after forty minutes he messaged over every other platform they shared, and all of them remained stubbornly unread.

After forty-five minutes Phichit decided he had been as reasonable as he could be and tracked Yuuri's phone.

He felt slightly embarrassed to find the phone - and therefore Yuuri - was just at the end of the street. He went back to his notes, expecting to be disturbed any moment, but the door never opened and when Phichit checked the time another twenty minutes had gone by.

According to the tracker, Yuuri's phone was right on top of his.

Phichit's thumb hovered over the call button. He checked the bathroom, he checked the rec room, he went back to their dorm room just in case. He knocked on Aki's door, he tried Fransisco's room, and then he went downstairs because maybe Yuuri had lost his keys, and it would be just like Yuuri to stand outside the door and wait rather than ring.

The glass in the front door was not the cleanest and the light in the lobby low, but there was some shape outside that seemed like bundled-up human. Phichit took it as a mark of how much he loved Yuuri that he opened the door without a coat, hat or scarf on, willing to risk pneumonia.

He instantly forgot the cold; the important thing was to take a photo, because the evidence of his own eyes was not enough.

A photo wasn't good enough either, he realised quickly, and switched to video.

\--

Phichit had no idea what time it was when Yuuri stirring next to him brought him mostly back into consciousness. There was a chink of gloom between the curtains; he didn't remember setting an alarm. Yuuri's head was nestled on his shoulder and moving felt like too much effort.

Yuuri muttered something groggy, presumably Japanese. Phichit gently tucked Yuuri's hair back behind his ear and murmured, " _Lap sa_."

"Urrrnf," Yuuri returned, and twisted almost onto his stomach, burrowing his face into Phichit's neck. Phichit carried on playing idly with Yuuri's hair, content to drowse.

It took a few more minutes before Yuuri went suddenly rigid then pushed himself up on his elbows. They peered at each other, almost nose to nose.

"Good morning?" Phichit offered, stretching out his now freed arm. Yuuri's expression was hard to resolve in the mostly-darkness, so Phichit added, helpfully, "Please don't throw up on me?"

Yuuri blinked at him, and even in the gloom there was no mistaking the dawning horror on his face. He shot out from under the covers, missed his footing, scrabbled up using the side of the bed, and ran for the bathroom.

Phichit swallowed a laugh, sighed, found his phone under the pillow and plugged it in to charge while idly flicking through twitter.

It was not until Yuuri had been gone for twenty minutes that Phichit double-checked the time and remembered he had a test.

"I just want you to know," Phichit said loudly into the bathroom door three minutes later, a hamster clinging to his shoulder, "that I don't have your ninja door skills so you need to come out or I'm going to fail sociology!"

There came a heavy bump against the door a few seconds later and Yuuri said, miserably, "It's not locked."

"Not now," Phichit agreed, "but you're leaning against it which is almost as bad. Do you want tea? Bananas? Coconut water?"

"We don't - there isn't any coconut water?" Yuuri sounded bewildered, but at least he was talking.

"No," said Phichit on a sigh, "more's the pity. You should have eaten noodles last night, I did tell you!"

The other side of the door was silent. Phichit made himself count to ten, slowly, while the hamster tried to burrow inside the neckline of his sweater. "Yuuri -"

"I'm sorry!" Yuuri said on a choked gasp. "I'm really sorry, I think I've - I'm - Phichit, I'm sorry, really -"

"Yuuri!" said Phichit more loudly, over this litany. "I'm going to make tea and I'm going to turn the lamp on and put it right down on low and I'm going to text Ciao-Ciao and tell him we'll be at the rink this afternoon like normal, and if you're not out of there by then I will come in and get you, so wait there or come out, okay?"

He ended up sending Celestino a long series of texts about how he needed to drop Sociology (and could he get extra credit for looking after Yuuri Katsuki) and then he made a series of tweets about how much he missed street food stalls back home. This turned out to be a mistake since several of his friends started sending him photos of their dinner, or of whatever food stall was closest, and photos of little bags of coconut water halfway round the world were worse than useless.

In the end he shook the hamster out of the wrist of his sweater and back into her cage - despite her best attempts to cling on - and then gave her fresh water and seeds by way of apology.

He hadn't actually expected Yuuri to reappear, wet hair still dripping onto his face, mumbling something about needing clean clothes, while Phichit was still dealing with the tea. Phichit kept his back turned and waved randomly over his shoulder.

Celestino texted back that he was not Phichit's academic advisor, but sociology sounded terrible in any case, and what was up with Yuuri besides the usual.

_Hungov-_ Phichit started to text, and then decided that wasn't the best thing to tell their coach. He was composing something a bit more circumspect when he got another text:

_Did he get smashed with his dance pals last night? It's been a while..._

Phichit raised his eyebrows at this piece of information, then decided Yuuri had had long enough and turned around. "Want to just sit over on - Yuuri?"

Yuuri was pulling on clothes almost at random. "I need to go on a run."

"Nooooo," said Phichit, "that is literally the worst idea ever, you need to hydrate, sit down!"

"Then - the library," Yuuri started to sound desperate. "I'll get a coffee -"

"You don't even drink coffee!" Phichit doggedly put himself between Yuuri and the door. "I made you tea!"

Yuuri blinked at Phichit, startled, in the half-light of their room.

"And a banana," Phichit remembered, "or at least I will if you just sit down for a second and by the way that is not your scarf."

Yuuri paused in the act of picking the navy blue scarf off the end of his bed. Then he looked back at Phichit. "Wait, so I didn't -?"

"Didn't what?" asked Phichit in dawning realisation. 

"You?" spluttered Yuuri.

"Oh my God!" said Phichit. "You don't remember!"

Yuuri swallowed, "Well, I -"

"Our night of passion!" sighed Phichit melodramatically. "Our vows of undying love, Yuuri, how could you!"

Phichit's only regret was that he had no time to immortalise the expression on Yuuri's face; he almost instantly dissolved into laughter.

"What?" said Yuuri stupidly, while Phichit almost doubled over. 

"Oh my God, Yuuri, you idiot!" Phichit flapped a hand at him, wheezing. "Please sit down before I die, please!"

Yuuri stood stock still, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. Phichit advanced on him and Yuuri shrank back; Phichit stopped and held out his hands, palms up, still shaking his head as if that would get the giggles under control.

"Sit down," he said again, once he trusted his voice. "I'm sorry -"

"You're not," said Yuuri, as grey as the small amount of light making it through the curtains would let him be. "I - ugh - I really -" and he suddenly seemed to deflate, "I really don't remember -"

"Sit down," said Phichit, "and if you drink your tea, then I'll show you."

Yuuri sank back and down onto his bed, "That is - not re- re-um, re-helpful."

"Reassuring," Phichit crouched down in front of Yuuri and waved his phone at him. "I suppose this isn't reassuring either?"

Yuuri swallowed, "No."

"Too bad," said Phichit. "Tea!"

\--

"I never want to see that again!" whimpered Yuuri, bright red and horrified. It had taken him a full minute to recover speech after the - somewhat shaky, it had to be said - video had finished playing. "I can never go back there again!"

"He was very nice about it," Phichit said, "Once I explained who I was. And he was very complimentary about your, er, attempts to climb him like a tree, I think he put it."

"I've changed my mind," Yuuri moaned, "I need to transfer."

"Not until after Worlds," said Phichit. "And definitely not until you tell me what your dancer friend meant when he told me he drove you home because you fell off a pole."

"I can never leave this room again!" Yuuri groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"Fell. Off. A. Pole!" Phichit repeated, gleefully.

"Well," said Yuuri through his fingers. "I was drunk."

"And you," Phichit hesitated, then ploughed on, "often get drunk and fall off poles and then make out with people in your dance group?"

Yuuri started shaking his head, then stopped with a gulp. "We're honestly there for dancing," he said, "just, usually afterwards, someone brings something, and one of the girls works at a club so that's why - she's teaching us all some pole dancing this semester, and usually I don't - not _that_ often - not recently - I've been better since you - since this year - at not drinking but tonight - last night, that is, I just thought, why not, and..."

There was a lot there that Phichit didn't quite want to think about, but he half-guessed, "You don't have to not-drink on my account."

"I don't like it," Yuuri said, "not really. I mean, it must, it seemed like a good idea at the time but - it - now - the morning after - I never -"

"To put your mind at rest," said Phichit, taking a small amount of pity, "I dragged you back up here with you yelling all the way about how I was spoiling your night not letting you bring what's-his-name up here, then -"

Yuuri slumped sideways with yet another dramatic groan. 

"Then," Phichit persisted, "I managed to get your coat and shoes off and about half a glass of water down you, by which point you were probably telling me something really interesting but it was all in Japanese, then by the time we got back from the bathroom you were saying something about how unfair the world was, then we sort of fell onto my bed and you told me at length of your great and undying love for Viktor Nikiforov, _again_..."

Yuuri grabbed his pillow and planted his face deep into it. 

"It was mostly in Japanese," said Phichit, "but I got the general idea. Actually I think I may have gone to sleep first out of self-preservation."

Yuuri made a sound that was not entirely unlike a laugh. "I'm an awful friend."

"You're a brilliant friend!" Phichit protested, "Endlessly entertaining, a good reason to fail out of sociology, and free and easy with potential blackmail material; I'm the bad friend here!"

"It's just," Yuuri said into his pillow, "I know you heard when Ploy said to me, last week, and I - I mean, you knew I knew anyway, but -"

"Yuuri," said Phichit gently, "like I said, I'm a bad friend, so never kiss me when you're drunk, because I won't - I don't - I'm not going to - that's not how this goes."

"But," said Yuuri. "But what if we're both -"

"Oh, that's easy," Phichit said affably. "If I'm drunk too I'll send all your confessions straight to Viktor."

Yuuri twisted his head out of the pillow to eye Phichit dubiously. "I did - no, I said something last night?"

"You did," agreed Phichit. 

Yuuri stared at him.

"I won't tell anyone!" Phichit promised. "Who'd believe me?"

Yuuri stared at him.

"Okay, okay," Phichit said, "Anything, just stop looking at me like that!"

"What did I say?" Yuuri sounded strangled, and Phichit beckoned him closer, turning round to sit down at the side of the bed, tipping his head back. Yuuri wriggled a bit until he got the angle right, until the sides of their heads touched.

" _Khu hu,_ " said Phichit, quiet, careful. "That's us. Remember?"

"I know," said Yuuri, softer than a whisper. "I know it's all right, but I don't feel like it's all right."

"It can wait," Phichit suggested.

"It can't," said Yuuri, almost inaudibly.

"I'm not promising accuracy, Phichit said, "you were switching languages and no way was I going to try recording you, but -"

"Phichit-kun," said Yuuri.

"You said," Phichit relented, "several times, that you were glad Viktor wasn't there." He cast an eye up, to where Viktor and his dog were beaming over at them both, and sighed. "And also that you bet you could have won a medal if he was your coach."

Yuuri didn't say anything. Phichit couldn't even feel a breath.

"Which I never heard," Phichit decided, "And will never speak of again."

The breath came a moment later, a relieved huff across his cheek. "It's not real," said Yuuri. "It's stu-"

"I want fresh coconut water," Phichit said firmly, "in a little plastic bag with a teeny-tiny rubber band, given to me in another plastic bag with a plastic straw thrown in. I want to drink it and enjoy it and at the same time be totally outraged about how bad it all is for the environment. _That's_ stupid. You should come to Bangkok with me for Songkran."

"I can't," said Yuuri, "I can't come with you; I should go home first."

"But you're not going home," Phichit said.

"Not without a -" Yuuri sighed, and rolled away. "Six points, that was all."

"Oh!" said Phichit in sudden dismayed comprehension, twisting round to stare at Yuuri's back. "Oh, _Yuuri_." No wonder fourth place had been so awful. "Why?"

"I promised," Yuuri said haphazardly, "it's my own fault."

"Well!" Phichit said, too loudly. "It'll just have to be Worlds, then, won't it?"

Yuuri made a noise somewhere between a snort and a sniff. 

"You know what," said Phichit, "screw bananas, we need pancakes and bacon and all that stuff. I'm buying."

"No, I should -" Yuuri began.

"Okay," said Phichit, "we can argue about this when we get there and then I'll win, seems fair?"

Yuuri rolled back over, clothes crumpled, glasses askew, hair sticking all whichways, eyes red-rimmed and face pale. Phichit decided to save the small touches, maybe even the hugs that they both so clearly needed, for later and instead just grinned at him.

"Wear your light blue hat," he said, "it's Friday."

**Author's Note:**

> 'Mai pen rai' is one of the most common phrases in the Thai language and is probably most closely translated as 'let's not make a fuss about this' which is usually rendered as 'don't worry' or 'never mind'.
> 
> 'Sawatdi kap' is one of the many ways of transliterating 'good day'


End file.
